Birth of a hockey fan

September 21, 1976, was a big day for Birmingham, Alabama.

Scott Adamson’s sports column appears when he feels sporty.

Turns out, it was a pretty big day for me, too.

The brand new Birmingham Civic Center Coliseum opened for business – a 17,000-plus seat palace designed for sports and concerts. What I remember most as I walked through the doors were the smells … popcorn, hot dogs and just a hint of Hai Karate aftershave, which was apparently standard issue for Southern adult males.

But I wasn’t there for the olfactory sensations or a tour of the facility.

I was there for professional hockey – something as alien to Birmingham as glaciers and polar bears.

By the end of the night, however, the Civic Center felt like home. And the Birmingham Bulls became a part of my family.

Just a few months earlier, the World Hockey Association franchise was based in Toronto and known as the Toros. But owner John Bassett (who I was familiar with because he owned the Memphis Southmen of the defunct World Football League) decided to take a big gamble by moving his team to the Deep South.

The Bulls’ first introduction to fans came a few days earlier when 4,000 showed up to watch an intrasquad scrimmage. On this night, though, the National Hockey League’s Atlanta Flames provided the opposition in an exhibition game, and it was hard to imagine a better opening gambit.

I don’t think anyone had a clue how many people would show up on a Tuesday night (although 4,000 season tickets had been sold), but by the time the teams took the ice 8,868 sports fans were in the building.

I try to avoid using the word “awesome” because it’s so overused it has lost much of its meaning.

But man, that night was awesome.

From the moment the skaters left the tunnel and glided in formation on the frozen pond, I was mesmerized.

But, I was also prepared.

When it was announced in June that the Toros were headed to Alabama, I made a point to read everything I could about the sport – the rules, the history, and the stars.

Birmingham, for example, featured Frank Mahovlich, who was already one of the most decorated players in hockey history.

The “Big M” had played on six Stanley Cup-winning teams, and was a cinch for induction into the Hockey Hall of Fame.

Paul Henderson was another Bulls standout. The two-time NHL All-Star led Canada to victory over the Soviet Union in the famous 1972 Summit Series, scoring the game-winning goals in the sixth, seventh and eighth games.

And then there was Mark Napier, a 19-year-old phenom who was named WHA Rookie of the Year in 1975.

The public address announcer spent much of the night explaining nuances of the game, but I was already a step ahead of him. I studied hockey rule books like I was prepping for a test, and not only knew why the ref blew his whistle but was happy to explain it to anyone sitting near me.

It was the first time I had ever seen this high speed collision sport up close and personal, and I was hooked. It was ice skating with attitude, and I absolutely loved it.

With the death of the WFL less than a year earlier, I wondered if there was any team – in any sport – that could fill the void.

After a couple of hours, I wondered no more.

For the record, Birmingham won the inter-league showdown in overtime, 7-6. Napier scored three goals, his last coming with just 46 seconds remaining in O.T. to clinch it for the WHA side.

I don’t know how many fans understood everything that was going on, but they all understood what a game-winning goal was. The place erupted when Napier’s backhander flew past Atlanta goalie Dan Bouchard’s glove and the red light behind goal lit up.

Normally all I would ever talk about in a given September would be football, but thanks to one magical night in the Magic City, hockey moved to the top of the chart and remained there throughout the Bulls’ history.

Even though the WHA is now just a distant (but fond) memory, it brought professional hockey to my hometown. Gordie Howe, Wayne Gretzky, Mark Messier – Birmingham was never one of the league’s better teams, but the Bulls faced some of the best players on the planet. I’m extremely lucky I got to see them in the flesh.

And while that exhibition game 43 years ago didn’t count, don’t ever tell me it didn’t matter.

It did … and still does.

All sports, all the time

With the rollout of team nicknames on Wednesday, the XFL teased fans about what they’ll see when the rebooted football league kicks off next spring. It’ll be another in an increasingly long line of pro upstarts that are formed on the premise that gridiron fans have an insatiable desire for the game.

Scott Adamson’s sports column appears pretty much whenever he feels like writing it.

And that got me wondering … are there any other sports that fans yearn to see year round? You don’t ever hear much about that – at least I don’t.

Soccer is the exception because, frankly, it already is year round. If you want to find a competitive league in any given month, you can.

Today, though – just for fun – I’m gonna look at a handful of sports and wonder out loud (and in print) how they might fare if they played in their offseasons and were bankrolled properly.

Please be sure to keep a grain of salt handy as you read,

BASEBALL

Would there be an interest in a pro baseball league that starts, say, in November and ends in March? I realize there are already winter leagues, but they’re short, mostly of the instructional/ rehab variety, and designed to give players a nudge up the Major League Baseball farm system ladder.

What I’m talking about is a kinda/sorta “competitor” to the bigs, or at least one that would aspire to independent Triple-A status.

Teams would have to play in warm weather climates or in cities with a dome, so automatically you could forget major markets such as New York, Chicago and Philadelphia.

That would be a huge negative if this league was looking for a major TV contract.

With the “real” baseball season already at 162 games and a World Series that bleeds into late October, another league might be a tough sell. Considering I have a hard enough time watching the MLB these days anyway, I’m guessing the novelty would wear off quite quickly for me.

Still, if I ran it, two of my major rule innovations would be a two and a half hour time limit on regular season games and a home run derby (penalty kick-style) to break ties.

BASKETBALL

This sport is already almost year round thanks to the WNBA, which I enjoy watching very much. Still, a men’s league that started up right after the NBA crowned its champion would interest me, too.

I love watching the NBA summer league, and if a new circuit was formed that started in the hotter months and played until the fall, I’d definitely support it. Roundball is something I never, ever tire of, and if you put some good players out on a court, I’ll pay to watch them.

And there are plenty of great players across the globe that would easily fill roster spots. When you realize there are only 450 players in the NBA in a given season, that means there’s a whole lot of talent looking for work.

I think with the right marketing and media partners, a June through October basketball league would have a puncher’s chance of making it.

Rule changes would include teams having the option to take the ball instead of shooting free throws following a foul, and making traveling an enforceable call.

Then again if you wanted to go way outside the box, how about a co-ed pro league? Lineups featuring three men and two women and three women and two men would alternate each quarter, and the shifts would be determined randomly before games.

HOCKEY

Now that’d be a hoot. All you need are arenas, water filtration/advanced refrigeration systems and Zambonis, and you’re good to go.

Oh, and players – quality players would help. (Raiding the Kontinental Hockey League would be a good start to that end).

I fell in love with hockey back in the 1970s and the affair is still going strong. Therefore, if I lived in a town with a team that skated on Saturday nights in June, I’d gladly give it my money (even though it would be weird to wear shorts to a hockey game).

Rule-wise, I really can’t think of much I’d change. To me it’s one of those “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” kinda things. But … if I could do one thing, it would be to increase the goal size from 6×4 feet to 7×5 feet. Goalies have gotten bigger over the years, so maybe the nets should reflect that growth spurt.

The question, of course, is whether enough people would pay to see summer hockey to make it worthwhile.

Last year the NHL averaged 17,377 fans per game and drew over 22 million for the season. Open up the checkbooks to get a few name players, put franchises in hockey hotbeds, and who knows?

I can’t think of a single entrepreneur chomping at the bit to form such a league, but I’ll lend my encouragement if they do.

Yet while we might never see major attempts at second seasons for baseball, basketball or hockey, you can always count on football to give it a try. Aside from the XFL, the Freedom Football League and Pacific Pro Football are scheduled to debut next summer.

And since I keep hearing that everyone wants football 12 months out of the year, it’d be nice if one of these leagues actually proved it to be true.

 

Happy birthday, AFL

If you glance at the history of American professional football, you’ll find as many tombstones as you will milestones.

Scott Adamson’s sports column appears pretty much whenever he feels like writing it.

While the National Football League has grown into the most lucrative sports league on the planet (it takes in roughly $13 billion per year), upstarts such as the World Football League and United States Football League drown in red ink.

But 60 years ago today, a competitor decided to challenge the status quo.

And although it now exists as part of the NFL, the American Football League rattled the establishment by establishing itself as gridiron equals.

On August 14, 1959, Dallas millionaire Lamar Hunt led a meeting in Chicago that created a second major pro football league in the United States, one that would begin play in the fall of 1960 as the AFL.

Hunt announced that Dallas, Houston, Los Angeles, Minneapolis-St. Paul, Denver and New York would have franchises, and there was a possibility two more cities could join for the inaugural campaign.

“We have definite commitments,” Hunt told the United Press International news service. “A kitty (pool of money) is being set up to assure the financial success of the league.”

The other owners – including Barron Hilton, who bought the L.A. franchise, and Bud Adams, head of the Houston entry – dubbed themselves the “Foolish Club” because of their audacious plan to take on the established NFL.

“We’ll try to beat the National Football League on their draft,” Hunt said, adding that the AFL would also bid against the NFL and the Canadian Football League for the best available talent.

The NFL had 12 teams in 1959 and was still playing second fiddle to Major League Baseball among sports fans. But the senior circuit got a huge popularity boost due to the 1958 championship game, one that saw the Baltimore Colts defeat the New York Giants, 23-17, in the league’s first-ever sudden death overtime game.

Featuring 17 players who went on to be inducted in the Pro Football Hall of Fame, that contest turned the NFL into a television hit. It’s widely considered the single event that ultimately propelled the NFL to its spot atop the American sports food chain.

That being the case, trying to go head-to-head with it seemed like a losing proposition.

What’s interesting, though, is there was little opposition among NFL officials when the formation of the AFL was first announced.

Hunt discussed the idea with NFL commissioner Bert Bell, who “gave the league his blessing” and said the franchises of each league would respect each other’s player contracts.

Even Vince Lombardi – about to embark on his first year as coach and general manager of the Green Bay Packers – was in favor of the AFL.

“There is plenty of talent around to support two leagues,” Lombardi told UPI.

While the movers and shakers of the AFL had only a year to get it up and running, they pulled it off, although the lineup was a bit different from the one proposed at the Chicago meeting.

The 1960 season featured the Boston Patriots, Buffalo Bills, Dallas Texans, Denver Broncos, Houston Oilers, Los Angeles Chargers, Oakland Raiders and Titans of New York.

The cordial relationship between the NFL and AFL ended quickly after the older organization announced that it would expand to both Dallas and Minneapolis. It also moved into Miami when the AFL was targeting a team for South Florida.

But the new league managed to add Boston, Buffalo and Oakland to the lineup, and started with eight teams instead of six.

AFL Commissioner Joe Foss negotiated a package TV deal for the league that guaranteed each team $225,000 for broadcast rights, and 70 percent of the players drafted out of college were signed by the fledgling organization.

“Even competition is the most important thing for our success,” Foss told the Associated Press on September 7, 1960. “One-sided games would be the worst thing that could happen and it is hoped that our plan has made that unlikely. We do not expect to be up to the standards of the National Football League, but inside the league the competition should be good.”

The rest, as they say, is history.

The relationship between America’s two major leagues got more acrimonious over the years (the Texans couldn’t compete with the Cowboys in Dallas and moved to Kansas City, where they were rebranded the Chiefs), but the AFL was proving to be on par with the NFL on the field.

On June 8, 1966 – three months before the start of the AFL’s seventh season – the two leagues announced a merger in an effort to end the bidding war for top talent. They would play four more seasons as separate leagues before joining forces as a unified National Football League in 1970.

It made perfect business sense, of course, but I hated to see the AFL loses its identity.

It was the league that made me passionate about football, and I found it far more entertaining than the NFL. Its games were high-scoring, its players free-spirited – it was everything I wanted as fan.

The AFL was the last real threat to the NFL, and proved that members of the “Foolish Club” were anything but.

It’s a league worthy of a monument, not a tombstone.